Sponsa Quid videbis in Sulamite, nisi choros castrorum? Chorus Quam pulchri sunt gressus tui in calceamentis, filia principis! Juncturæ femorum tuorum sicut monilia quæ fabricata sunt manu artificis.

What shalt thou see in the Sulamitess but the companies of camps? How beautiful are thy steps in shoes, O prince’s daughter! The joints of thy thighs are like jewels, that are made by the hand of a skilful workman.

What can the woman of Sulam give you to feast your eyes on, if it be not the dance of the Two Camps? Ah, princely maid, how dainty are the steps of thy sandalled feet! Thighs well shaped as the beads of a necklace, some master-craftsman’s work;

Umbilicus tuus crater tornatilis, numquam indigens poculis. Venter tuus sicut acervus tritici vallatus liliis.

Thy navel is like a round bowl never wanting cups. Thy belly is like a heap of wheat, set about with lilies.

navel delicately carved as a goblet, that has ever its meed of liquor, belly rounded like a heap of corn amid the lilies.

Duo ubera tua sicut duo hinnuli, gemelli capreæ.

Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.

Graceful thy breasts are as two fawns of the gazelle.

Collum tuum sicut turris eburnea; oculi tui sicut piscinæ in Hesebon quæ sunt in porta filiæ multitudinis. Nasus tuus sicut turris Libani, quæ respicit contra Damascum.

Thy neck as a tower of ivory. Thy eyes like the fishpools in Hesebon, which are in the gate of the daughter of the multitude. Thy nose is as the tower of Libanus, that looketh toward Damascus.

Thy neck rising proudly like a tower, but all of ivory; deep, deep thy eyes, like those pools at Hesebon, under Beth-rabbim Gate; thy nose imperious as the keep that frowns on Damascus from the hill-side.

Caput tuum ut Carmelus; et comæ capitis tui sicut purpura regis vincta canalibus.

Thy head is like Carmel: and the hairs of thy head as the purple of the king bound in the channels.

Thy head erect as Carmel, bright as royal purple the braided ripples of thy hair.

Sponsus Quam pulchra es, et quam decora, carissima, in deliciis!

How beautiful art thou, and how comely, my dearest, in delights!

How graceful thou art, dear maiden, how fair, how dainty!

Statura tua assimilata est palmæ, et ubera tua botris.

Thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes.

Thy stature challenges the palm tree, thy breasts the clustering vine.

Dixi: Ascendam in palmam, et apprehendam fructus ejus; et erunt ubera tua sicut botri vineæ, et odor oris tui sicut malorum.

I said: I will go up into the palm tree, and will take hold of the fruit thereof: and thy breasts shall be as the clusters of the vine: and the odour of thy mouth like apples.

What thought should I have but to reach the tree’s top, and gather its fruit? Breasts generous as the grape, breath sweet as apples,

Guttur tuum sicut vinum optimum, dignum dilecto meo ad potandum, labiisque et dentibus illius ad ruminandum.

Thy throat like the best wine, worthy for my beloved to drink, and for his lips and his teeth to ruminate.

mouth soft to my love’s caress as good wine is soft to the palate, as food to lips and teeth.

Sponsa Ego dilecto meo, et ad me conversio ejus.

I to my beloved, and his turning is towards me.

My true love, I am all his; and who but I the longing of his heart?

Veni, dilecte mi, egrediamur in agrum, commoremur in villis.

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field, let us abide in the villages.

Come with me, my true love; for us the country ways, the cottage roof for shelter.

Mane surgamus ad vineas: videamus si floruit vinea, si flores fructus parturiunt, si floruerunt mala punica; ibi dabo tibi ubera mea.

Let us get up early to the vineyards, let us see if the vineyard flourish, if the flowers be ready to bring forth fruits, if the pomegranates flourish: there will I give thee my breasts.

Dawn shall find us in the vineyard, looking to see what flowers the vine has, and whether they are growing into fruit; whether the pomegranates are in blossom. And there thou shalt be master of my love.

Mandragoræ dederunt odorem in portis nostris omnia poma: nova et vetera, dilecte mi, servavi tibi.

The mandrakes give a smell. In our gates are all fruits: the new and the old, my beloved, I have kept for thee.

The mandrakes, what scent they give! Over the door at home there are fruits of every sort a-drying; I put them by, new and old, for my true love to eat.